When We Tango With Desire
by TheMarauder'sLibrary
Summary: "He's your best friend…" she said, in a last desperate attempt to regain her senses. "Then you must know that you're worth risking everything for." It would be a fairytale night; when their darkest desires were betrayed. SB/HG, RL/HG. Reviews are love.


**When We Tango With Desire**

**Disclaimer: I'd be ridiculously rich if I owned _Harry Potter_, since I'm not, I think it's fair to assume that I don't own it...**

**A/N: This has been the product of exam stress...I've been working on it for over a month and it's still not finished but now it makes sense to break it up into a two-shot, instead of a _really_ long one-shot, so I've done just that. It's a Sirius/Hermione/Remus love-triangle that was sparked from a throwaway comment and the fact that one of my friends had a masquarade theme for her 18th birthday. All text sections in _italics_ are flashbacks, although they're not in any particular chronological order, and the rest is all present day stuff, so-to-speak. I realise there's tons of POV changes but that's because I didn't just want it to be from the perspective of one character, so all three of them sort of get a look in...It's all AU, so Remus didn't die and Sirius either went through the Veil and came back somehow or it's not at all OotP-compliant...take your pick! Um, that's probably about all the rambling I can do about this one, so enjoy!  
**

**A/N Take Two: All reviews make me a very happy Hippogriff indeed, so once you've finished reading, have a go at pressing that purdy li'l button at the bottom of the page...Pretty please with a sexy Marauder on top?**

**...  
**

Masks Can't Hide the Devil

The ballroom was pleasantly cool, despite the strange collection of people woven through it. The soft breeze whistled through the cracks in the mahogany window frames, which were ancient and draughty. It sailed through the room, twirling around the dancers like a third partner, wrapping itself around the gilt-framed mirrors that adorned the walls from floor to ceiling, sifting along the air until it settled into a hanging tapestry, upsetting the dust particles that shimmered on the air around a masked couple; the only pair abstaining from the dancing.

"You never told me that Cissy's kid was such a pretty boy," Sirius growled, staring over at a haughty looking young man with white gold-coloured hair, his face covered by severe black velvet. Hermione shivered at the closeness, placing a hand on his arm to steady herself.

"I didn't think it was worth mentioning," she replied tauntingly, a thrill running along her skin at the thought of his jealousy. "I also didn't realise you were the one I should be informing of these sorts of things."

Sirius let out a small, non-committal noise, unconsciously running the pads of his fingers along her arm until she pulled away from him, her face impassive under the silver filigree of her masquerade mask. His hand felt like it had been burnt and he remembered his lycanthropic friend and his claim on the woman next to him, but she smelt so sweet through the heightened senses of an animagus that his hands clenched into fists around the material of her dress, pulling her back.

"Gods, witch, you have no idea what you're doing to me, do you?" Hermione uncurled his fingers from the skirts of her gown and shrugged off his attempts to stop her walking away.

She wasn't quite sure how it had come to this; this acutely complicated tangle that left her breathless with confusion and insecurity. Her gown swilled around her, the soft netting brushing against her ankles as the beading along the bodice and across the billowing skirt reflected the glittering moonlight, making her wonder where Remus was under the sharp focus of the full moon. She had a sudden flashing vision of a graceful wolf, stretched proudly in the shadow of the oak trees in the garden of the Malfoy mansion, howling softly as though wounded, and she felt a sudden wave of guilt sweep over her as she remembered Sirius' shimmering silver eyes as his strong arms wrapped around her just moments ago. It had to be stopped; the web must be shattered and she needed to regain control of her senses, no matter how difficult she found that whilst in the presence of the ex-Marauder.

_**...**_

"_Hermione? Are you in here?"_

_The voice rang out through the dusty library, echoing off the leather-bound books as its owner entered the room in its wake. He found her curled up in a cushioned armchair, her fingers clutching a large volume that had fallen open against her chest, its pages rising and falling in sync with her breathing. Her eyelashes fluttered softly against her cheeks, creating light shadows under her eyes, just visible under the bushy brown hair that had fallen across her sleeping face. Remus smiled lightly and sat himself down onto the lumpy chaise-long across from her, lifting her book from her grasp and settling down to read it whilst he waited for her to wake up._

_The weak sunlight filtered through the moth-eaten curtains as her eyes flickered open. Remus rubbed his own eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose to force himself to focus as she looked up at him in surprise._

"_How long have you been sat there?" she asked, puzzled._

"_A while. Good book, by the way," he said, indicating the novel on his lap and smirking as a soft crimson blush spread across Hermione's cheeks._

"_It's Sirius'," she muttered sheepishly._

_Remus chuckled. "Oh, Hermione, I don't think even Sirius would go that far in the name of experimentation!" She flushed an even deeper shade of scarlet at the ideas that 'Sirius' and 'experimentation' conjured up and hid her face in her mass of tangled chocolate curls. He struggled with his inner wolf; it was almost full moon and the scent of the girl in front of him was pure intoxication that not even the best Firewhisky could achieve, but on the other hand, she was so young, so pure and untouched by anything as dark as the werewolf he was. In the end, the wolf inevitably won the battle. "Don't be shy, Hermione," he whispered intimately, cupping her chin in the palm of his hand and tilting her face upwards so he could look at her properly._

_Her mouth formed a perfect O of incredulity as she looked at her former professor and realised that something important had changed. She shifted slightly in her seat, leaning close enough to make the space between them just a little uncomfortable; she suddenly felt at lot older than her twenty-one years. There was a certain primal possessiveness in Remus' eyes as he captured her lips with his own; taking, biting, licking, and sucking until she finally opened her mouth to him in a desperate gasp for some elusive oxygen, and he plunged his tongue into the hot, suffocating darkness and whatever coherent being that had been Hermione Granger melted into putty._

_**...**  
_

Strong arms engulfed her, shaking her from her reverie of sunlit rooms and the scent of old leather and parchment. She tried to pull away but the arms tightened around her waist, drawing her closer, breath ghosting across the exposed flesh of her throat. She shivered.

"Just one night," Sirius whispered softly, and there was a hint of pleading in his husky baritone voice before his lips connected with her neck.

"But it wouldn't just be one night," she protested. "You can't promise me that I can give up an addiction once I give in to it."

Sirius ceased his ministrations along her skin and looked at her. "I'm an addiction?" he asked, hope seeping through his voice.

"N-no…" she began shakily, but Sirius turned her face towards him and kissed her roughly, passionately. She mused how very unlike Remus he was when he kissed her; while Remus was quietly possessive, Sirius was desperate, his tongue exploring her mouth like a man starved.

"Is that addictive?" he asked with a smirk as she pulled away breathlessly.

"He's your best friend…" she said, in a last desperate attempt to regain her senses.

"Then you must know that you're worth risking everything for." Hermione stepped away, taken aback by the blunt honesty of his words, although to her surprise, it was mirrored in his silver-grey eyes.

**_..._**

_He had been cooped up in Grimmauld Place for the whole torturously sweltering week and had finally snapped. Diagon Alley had been crowded and noisy and exactly what he needed but after being crushed against the windows of Quality Quidditch Supplies, he had decided that it was probably a good time to brave going home._

_Although he may have claimed that boredom was the trigger for his spontaneous day trip, in truth he had practically sprinted out of the house to avoid Remus' work-induced foul mood. Sirius opened the door tentatively and jumped back when he heard a piercing howl. He sprinted up the stairs, his heightened animagus senses following the fading echoes of sound to the library. It was only when he reached the dark knotted wood of the ornate door that he caught the scent behind it. _

_Despite his better judgement, Sirius pushed the door slightly, desperate to get closer to the mouth-watering aroma; he was certain that he had smelt a more diluted form of the scent before. It was only when he could see the reason for it that he knew why the scent was so delicious to him. Hermione. The bushy-haired bookworm hadn't commanded his attention when they first met; he'd marked her down as a rather plain and difficult little girl, but during his years between realities, she had blossomed into a beautiful, passionate young woman and he was more than a little disappointed to have missed her transformation into something that took his breath away and held his flighty interest._

_She was sprawled across the ancient chaise-long, her russet curls fanned out across an open book, her naked chest heaving as she snuffled shallowly in her sleep. Sirius' eyes shifted through the scene, taking in the disarray of clothes strewn across the floor and her slim fingers unconsciously stroking the smooth silver scars across his best friend's muscled chest. It was the first time he had ever known jealousy; an angry red weal of irrational hatred; a roaring monster of insecurity and envy reaching its calloused paws up inside his chest, clawing at the bubbling anger that had suddenly replaced the blunt emptiness with a strong, inexplicable desire to tear the werewolf limb from limb. He felt alive._

_**...**  
_

"Sirius!" she hissed, halting the progress of his calloused hands along the silk and whalebone of her waist. Undeterred, he twined his fingers in between hers, returning his lips to her neck and making her forget why she had admonished him in the first place; it was only when she saw emerald eyes glinting at her through a gold mask that she remembered. "Sirius, stop! Harry's coming this way!"

Sirius looked up to see his godson and his flame-haired fiancée, Ginny, making their way through the throng of dancers towards them. He dropped Hermione's hand, bringing his own up to lift her hair away from her face, tugging the ribbons of her mask loose and making a show of retying it for her, maintaining his proximity to her. "Well, I think that will hold now, Hermione," he said, a little louder than was necessary. Harry, oblivious as always, greeted his godfather and best friend warmly but Ginny, who had always been more perceptive than 'The Chosen One', raised her eyebrows at Hermione, her expression shrewd as she took in Sirius' hand playing with a loose bead on Hermione's full skirt, and the soft flush painting the Muggleborn's cheeks.

As Harry chatted amicably with his godfather, Ginny drew Hermione aside, her expression leaden with meaning. Away from Sirius' warm, teasing fingers, Hermione felt the hot tingles along her skin dissipate as the fog cleared from her mind. Relief washed over her as she realised that she could once again think logically.

"So," came Ginny's voice, breaking through Hermione's raging thoughts. "Are you going to tell me what's going on with Sirius or would you like me to make an educated guess?" She smirked as Hermione flushed again, looking for all the world like she wished that the ground would swallow her up.

"Nothing's going on, Gin…" she mumbled, not even sure that she could convince herself.

Ginny ignored her. "What about Remus? Is he out of the picture now?"

"No, of course not! I love Remus, no really, Ginny, I do. It's all such a mess…"

"You're telling me! You need to think about where you are before you go eating Sirius' face in public, Hermione," Ginny chastised, although she was smirking.

"Oh, stop looking like that. It's not my fault, you know. I want to be faithful to Remus but he's not around for a whole week during every month and Sirius is always so…well, he's _Sirius_, isn't he?"

"Just be careful, ok?"

"What's to be careful about? It's not like he's being genuine about any of this…he's Sirius, for Merlin's sake! His main goal in life is to shag as many women as possible before his libido gives out!"

"Whose libido has given out?" asked Harry, walking over to them and slipping his arm around Ginny's waist.

"Doesn't matter," said Ginny, kissing him lightly. "Girl talk. We'll see you later, Hermione, I'm sure you've got people to catch up with." She walked away, trailing a bemused Harry behind her.

Hermione heard footsteps and didn't need to turn around to work out that a certain Marauder was standing directly behind her. This time, however, she wasn't going to let him reduce her to a melted puddle of Hermione; she was done playing games. She sashayed away from him, towards the pewter-coloured velveteen drapes that lined the room; behind the buffet table was a swathe of material tied back with silver satin chords, which hid the path to the rest of the mansion, and it was this drapery that Hermione was headed for. She pulled the curtain aside slightly and shot a look over her shoulder towards Sirius, filling it with lust and promise, before disappearing from sight. It didn't take long for Sirius to follow her, just as he had done so many times before, although she didn't know it.

**_..._**

_There was a shrill giggle that pierced through his sleeping mind. Shaken from his doze, Sirius sat up slowly, stretching out his muscles and feeling joints click back into place as he yawned and rubbed his eyes groggily, coaxing himself awake. The tinkling laughter was repeated, striking through his alcohol-soaked brain like a tolling bell and he grimaced, one hand shooting up to his forehead to massage it – he couldn't even remember why he had drunk so much. The laughter was irritating to him, like nails scraping down a blackboard, except it wasn't so much the sound as something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He stiffened his resolve and staggered towards the door, his head swimming as he relived the effects of the particularly well-matured Ogden's Auld Firewhisky he had consumed the night before, but before he could shout down the stairs to whoever was emitting the sounds that had woken him up, the sounds of mirth disturbed another 'inhabitant' of Grimmauld Place._

_"FILTH! MUDBLOODS! HALF-BREEDS! STAINS ON THE PUREBLOOD NAME OF THIS HOUSEHOLD! UNGRATEFUL FRUIT OF MY LOINS BRINGING SHAME UPON THE HOUSE OF BLACK!"_

_His mother's portrait, which they had still been unable to remove despite years of research and unbridled anger, had flung open the moth-eaten curtains that covered it and was screaming out her usual tirade of insults and rebukes. Sirius pounded down the stairs, ignoring the trip-step completely and pulling out his wand._

_"Shut UP, you miserable old hag! No one gives a damn about anything you think!" he bellowed, shooting red sparks at his mother's contorted, screaming face before tugging the curtains across it again, forcing the screams to die down. Still fuming from both the noises that had woken him up and his encounter with his mother's portrait, Sirius turned and glared at the library door, where the original sounds had undoubtedly come from. He barged in, flinging the door open and standing, hands on hips, glowering at the pair of lovers, currently entwined on the high-backed armchair. Their matching grins faded abruptly._

_"Sirius, mate," began Remus, shrugging Hermione off his body and making to stand._

_Sirius ignored him, staring angrily at Hermione, who had logically been the source of the giggles. Her smile faded. "It's six o'clock in the fucking morning, Hermione! What the hell were you thinking?"_

_Remus shot in front of her, his body crouched slightly, a low warning growl ripping from his throat._

_"Remus, please, settle down," she said, standing up and gently pushing him aside, her hands on his tensed muscles soothing him, making him relax before she turned to face Sirius. "I'm sorry, Sirius. Remus and I were just messing around and it got out of hand. I apologise for waking both you and your mother and I can assure you that it won't happen again, but really, you're overreacting a little, don't you think?"_

_Sirius was breathing heavily, trying to control the overwhelming urge to collapse and vomit – although not necessarily in that order – and Hermione, perceptive as ever noticed everything, including the empty bottle of Ogden's best that had rolled, half-hidden, under the moth-eaten chaise-long. She turned back to her lover, leading him back over to the armchair and sitting him down, whispering that she would be back soon and that he should relax. She walked towards the door and motioned Sirius to follow her, which he did like the lovesick puppy he must undoubtedly be._

_When he entered the basement kitchen, she was already searching the cupboards, pulling out vials of potion before she finally rested on a beaker of the most violent purple-coloured liquid. Sirius knew what it was even before she set it down in front of him and wordlessly motioned for him to drink it. He knocked the vial back in one gulp, instantly regretting it as the fog was swept from his mind and everything that had happened between drinking the extortionate amount of Firewhisky and consuming the potion came flooding back to him. He shook his head and groaned._

_The room remained silent for a few moments and he heard a soft sigh. "I'm truly sorry, Sirius," she said quietly. "I didn't know, I didn't think…" She trailed off before he could work out what she was talking about. "Remus has never been predatory before." She walked around the scrubbed mahogany table and leant down until their noses were almost touching and he was sure she could smell the wafts of stale whisky emanating from his skin. Her lips touched his, parting slightly as she sighed against him; it was barely a kiss, just a brush of lips, a tantalising taste of what he could have had if he had been worthy of her, and suddenly he understood. His hand twisted into her hair, tugging her closer, but she pulled away, straightening up and making for the door. She opened it and turned back to him. "But Remus is it for me." And she was gone._

_**...**  
_

She found herself in a room draped with emerald silk, surrounding an ornate four-poster bed. The room was neat but dusty; a sign of its lack of use, but it was perfect for her clandestine meeting. Sirius found her perched on top of the green satin sheets of the bed, watching his approach with cautious eyes. He held out an assured hand, devoid of the soft shakes that were overcoming her. She took it and allowed him to lift her into a standing position and pull her into an embrace. He buried his face in the soft tendrils of chocolate-coloured hair that had been teasing him all night, drinking in the scent of lavender and ancient leather-bound books that drifted across her skin. She pulled away slightly, staying in his arms but leaning back against his strong grip to study his face. His silver eyes were a darker pewter colour, clouded by desire, and his expression was filled with a hungry longing she had never seen him wear before; Sirius Black was a man who enjoyed the chase, never the capture, but here it seemed she was proving her hypothesis wrong. He wanted her, she wanted him; it was enough to make her ignore the soft, wounded howls that tore through the winds surrounding them.

He checked her expression, needing to know that she wanted him too. Her caramel eyes were soft, the black of her pupils seeping into the hazel-honey of the irises as she watched him. He bent his head, snaking his hand around to rest against the back of her neck as his mouth descended on hers. His kiss consumed her, throwing all doubts aside and leaving her completely breathless. Remus had been gentle and sweet whenever they made love; so aware of his condition and what he could truly do to her that he never let go of his inhibitions. In contrast, Sirius was passionate and desperate in such a way that made her want to tear off her own clothes and let him do anything to her. His tongue pushed into her mouth, duelling with hers in the hot, suffocating darkness. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once; on her face stroking her cheeks, in her curls pulling them loose, in the small of her back steadying her, along her waist teasing her. The pads of his fingers grazed her breasts through the satin of her bodice and she gasped, keening at his touch and pushing forward, giving him access to her willing body. He unlaced the corset impatiently, tugging the ribbons loose and letting it fall to the floor as her hair shifted over her breasts. He swept it back over her shoulder, palming the soft globes of flesh hungrily, as if he had never seen anything quite like it. Hermione moaned as he stroked her nipples, rubbing in circles over them until they were painfully erect and straining against his hands. His mouth traversed her neck, licking a torturous path down the silky skin, his tongue swirling around the hollow of her collar bone, trailing down to meet his fingers at her nipples. When it finally did, she gave herself up to the intense heat of his mouth as his tongue lapped at the stiff buds of flesh and she let her hand stroke down his chest to cup the erection growing between his legs, leaving her panting when she heard his answering growl of arousal.

She trailed her hand back up his body, caressing the planes of his chest through the black silk of his shirt. Iridescent white and black; an angel and a devil entwined in a dance of passion and seduction, the ultimate tango of juxtaposition. Her fingers skittered along the collar of his shirt, skimming along the slippery material until she reached the buttons, popping them open in an erratic rhythm as Sirius continued his ministrations along her body, his calloused fingers slipping to the back of her skirt, fumbling with the ribbons that held it to her body. With a swift tug, they ripped from the satin folds of Hermione's full skirt and the material swooped down her slim legs, pooling at her feet. She stepped out of the swathes of pearly satin, pulling her feet out of the soft shimmering heels she wore as she went. Sirius shucked his shirt off, tossing it into a corner and not caring where it landed. His shoes, socks and dress pants went the same way and soon they were both standing in just their underwear, facing each other and entirely unsure of where to go from there.

She sank down onto the bed, the satin sheets bunching around her clenched fists. "I can't do this," she whispered her voice choked. "I can't…_cheat._"

"You didn't seem to have a problem with it a moment ago, beautiful," he purred, winding a twist of her hair around his finger.

"Sirius, I…_please…_" she hissed, leaning her head back into the crook of his neck.

"You smell delicious, you know," he said conversationally, his finger trailing down her neck and along her collarbone. "So warm and sweet." His finger circled a nipple, stroking down underneath her breast before cupping it in the palm of his hand. Hermione moaned and snaked her hand down under the lace of her knickers. They were hot and soaked and she quickly found her clit and teased it, writhing against Sirius' muscled chest. Sirius watched, transfixed, as she continued to pleasure herself; he had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life, and he knew instantly that Remus would have to fight a hard battle to keep her.

**_..._**

_"Sirius!" The hammering on the door grew louder, but Sirius ignored it, trying to block it out by turning up the particularly noisy Weird Sisters song that was currently playing on the WWN. "I know you're in there, Sirius! I can hear your music! I just want to discuss this like adults!"_

_Sirius sighed and picked up his wand from the desk, flicking it half-heartedly at the door before pushing his papers to one side to avoid looking at his best friend. Remus stepped over the threshold, taking in the state of the room; to say it was a mess would be a severe understatement. There were papers strewn across the rumpled sheets of the bed, which looked like it hadn't been slept in for days; discarded clothes covered the chairs, half-open books littered the floor, their pages bent and torn. He looked at his friend; Sirius reflected the mood of the room, his eyes dusted with dark shadows left by insomnia, his hair unkempt, a smattering of thick stubble covering his chin, and a strong smell of stale whisky that hung in the air around him; a thick cloud of swirling amber scent, even without his heightened wolf senses._

"_Sirius…" he began, before closing his mouth again, unsure of what to say next. Sirius' head remained resolutely bent in the direction of the desk, refusing to look up and acknowledge that Remus had spoken, or that he had even entered the room. "Sirius. Look at me."_

"_I thought you wanted to talk," came the reply from the desk._

"_Not when we can't be civil to one another."_

"_So go and bang down someone else's door."_

"_Oh, for Merlin's sake! Can't you be serious for once?" growled Remus, growing exasperated._

"_Well, that's what my mother named me…" The quip was so ready on his tongue, just like always, but it felt desultory; just one of his practiced lines, like an actor, like a marionette puppet. He slumped forward, his hand reaching for the bottle of Firewhisky that wasn't there anymore. Finally, he gave in; "What do you want to talk about?"_

"_Hermione." Her name spilling from Remus' lips was as if someone had pushed a button. Sirius straightened up, every muscle in his body stiffening with tension._

"_What about her?" he asked, though he knew. Remus had seen them in the garden together; he had been teasing her, letting himself get too close yet again, only this time, the werewolf had seen it, he had watched all of Sirius' tried and tested tricks and known that they were meant to seduce._

"_You want her," replied Remus unquestionably. Sirius blinked, so taken aback by the bluntness of his friend's statement that he didn't argue. Remus picked a t-shirt off the plush burgundy armchair and sank down onto it. "So you don't deny it, then?" he asked, his voice faltering slightly. _

_Sirius shook his head. "No. I suppose not."_

"_Are you sorry?"_

"_Would you be?" Sirius countered._

_Remus considered this. "No. I suppose not." Sirius smirked._

"_I won't share her, you know. This isn't Hogwarts, Pads."_

"_I know. I'm not a threat, Moony. She's all yours…" He paused for consideration. "You're a lucky man, Lupin," he teased._

_**...**  
_

Right at that moment he was the biggest threat he could possibly have become. The promise had been given lightly a few months before but now he was completely ignoring it, breaking the bond of trust and friendship that had surrounded him and Remus since their school days. For a few moments, he considered leaving and pretending that he and Hermione had shared nothing more than a friendly hug, but looking at her, her eyes huge and dark, her hair splayed out across the bed in tantalising waves, he knew he couldn't go back. It would be a fairytale night; when their darkest desires were betrayed, only once, because once was enough to taste nectar. He, at least, could never go back but the reality of his dream was enough to satiate him…for a while.

He twisted his fingers into her tousled hair and bent down to kiss her, his tongue duelling for dominance as she pulled his boxers down and he flung them from his legs into some dark corner of the room. He crawled over her body, positioning himself just as he would do for any other woman, but he knew that this time it would be different in so many ways as her back arched as he buried himself inside her, her mouth opening in silent pleasure as he set a rhythm. He was slow, but not entirely gentle; he didn't want to waste a moment of time with her but he had waited so long and been teased by her all night that he couldn't quite control him and soon the rhythm became erratic and desperate, her nails clawing down his back in such a way that he knew he would leave marks. A string of choked expletives fell from her mouth in disjointed waves, and he felt a certain sense of pride that he had been able to coax her into crying out such filth.

Every nerve ending felt hypersensitive, and her skin was on fire as he pounded into her. She felt his hand stroke up her sweat-covered body, grazing her breast before finding her face and caressing it; it was such a loving gesture in comparison to the frantic way he fucked her that she was taken aback by it, leaning into his hand as his movements made her walls clench around his cock and the friction of skin on sensitive skin sent her over the edge. He came soon after her, groaning as his body collapsed onto hers. The night was quiet but they didn't move, wrapped in each other, ignoring the muffled sounds of the party guests leaving the mansion.

"I love you, Hermione," Sirius whispered, and she clutched the words to her chest, forgetting for a few seconds that soon everything that had happened between them would be a distant memory; a dream of how things could have been if she hadn't already chosen a Marauder. She let her eyes drift shut…

**_..._**

_There was a soft clatter of heels on the worn stairs of Grimmauld Place and both Sirius and Remus looked up at the figure making her way down to them. She was a vision in a dress made from flowing iridescent white silk that swished around her ankles as she walked, and hugged her torso perfectly. Remus' mouth hung open and she giggled softly as she caught sight of his shocked face._

_"You'd better close your mouth, Remus, you don't want to start catching Wrackspurts," she teased as she reached them. Remus closed his mouth abruptly and smiled at her._

"_Have I told you how beautiful you are recently?" he asked, taking her arm and pulling her into an embrace, ignoring Sirius as he turned away from them slightly. Their earlier conversation had not been easy. Hermione seemed to consider his question._

"_Hmm…probably, but I blinked and missed it…" She poked her tongue out from between her teeth and he caught her mouth in a kiss._

"_Well you are most dazzlingly beautiful, Miss Granger. What on earth are you doing with an old man like me?"_

"_Are you kidding me? Haven't you ever heard that men are like wine?" she said._

"_What, they get you drunk?" interjected Sirius._

_She smirked at him. "Only if their name is Sirius Black," she teased, before turning back to Remus. "No, they get better with age. I'm very partial to a well-matured wine." Remus smiled, placated by her excuse as he kissed her, leaning his forehead against hers as he ran his hands lightly over her waist._

_Remus turned to his best friend and, still clutching at Hermione's corseted waist, said, "You'd better bring her back in one piece, Pads!"_

"_As if I could corrupt her," he replied, grinning back at Remus, but watching Hermione as if he would challenge her to prove him wrong. She shivered almost unnoticeably._

"_Sorry to break up the banter session, boys, but we're going to be late, Sirius," she said, extracting herself from Remus' arms. "You'll be careful tonight, won't you, Remus?"_

"_Always," he assured her as Sirius helped her into her coat and they left the house. It was only as he spotted Sirius' hand in the small of Hermione's back before the door closed that Remus wished that he was going to the party in Sirius' stead._

_**...**  
_

"How was the party?" asked Remus as she entered their shared room. He was stretched out across the bed, his limbs splayed, his face ashen; it had been a long night.

"It was nothing special," she said, quietly evading the question. She unlaced her dress, letting the pearly material slip to the floor in a soft puddle. "I'm going for a shower." She left the room without looking at him, and he desperately tried to shut down his senses so he could ignore the harsh aroma of another man that wafted gently along her scent on the stale air of the room.

The water was warm, but felt scalding as it slid down her body. The bruises of Sirius' kisses and actions from the night before were still sensitive along her skin; her flesh peppered with the marks made by his fingers and his mouth. She scrubbed her skin vigorously, as if the combination of the rough flannel and scented soap bubbles would remove all traces of him from her body instead of just making her red raw. The guilt coursed through her, throbbing through her veins as she thought of what she and Sirius had done whilst her ever-constant, ever-faithful Remus suffered the pain of his monthly transformation into a creature he despised. She didn't deserve him, and she would tell him so.

She stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in one of the fluffy white towels and muttering her prepared speech to herself. She didn't notice Remus enter the room until he was standing directly in front of her. "Remus, I-" she began, but he cut her off with his lips on hers, gently demanding.

When he pulled away, his blue-grey eyes were darkening, but there was a sense of weariness behind the indigo desire. "Hermione, would you do something for me, please?" he asked, his voice soft, but with a rough, gravelly edge to it.

"A-anything," she stammered.

"Just this once," he murmured, stroking her cheek lightly in a gesture so reminiscent of Sirius' the night before that she could feel the heat of a blush spreading across her cheeks. "Just for tonight…_shut up_." And his lips connected with hers again as their feet somehow mapped the path back into their bedroom.


End file.
